


Locked In

by i_cant_writex



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Crying, Embedded Images, Fuck Or Die, Just a wee bit, M/M, Manipulation, OR IS IT, PWP, Panic Attack, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Size Kink, Trapped, bc of course there's crying, dub con, rickmorty mini bang 2020 !, way too many petnames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:01:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27056839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_cant_writex/pseuds/i_cant_writex
Summary: Dragged off on another '20 minute adventure' gone wrong, Morty is forced to face the limits of what he will do to avoid dying at the cruel hands of the cosmos. Sex with his grandfather in a self-locking cabin (and alleged weird alien sex trap) couldn't be the worst thing anyone had ever done to survive, right?
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Comments: 12
Kudos: 142





	Locked In

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Rick and Morty Mini Bang 2020! I am so happy that I got to participate in this event, and I am simply in love with the wonderful art @rickxoxomorty (find them on twit!) made! They totally captured my vision of poor reluctant Morty once again dragged into a wild situation. 
> 
> Now onto the PWP!

Morty stared at the closed door with poorly muted fear. This situation was quickly deviating from his expectations, and he had been adventuring with Rick long enough to know that almost always resulted in something bad happening.

Rick had burst into his room after school, promising him another 20 minute adventure, and like a fool, Morty had trusted him, following him through a portal into an alien forest. They didn’t land at the edge, either, stepping right into the thick of the towering trees and plants taller and broader than either of them. Morty had obediently trudged through the forest behind Rick, grumpy and out of the loop. They had been walking long enough to have Morty wishing he wore a watch, so he could call Rick out on the bullshit of his ‘20 minute’ promises, when Rick suddenly stopped, jerking to the side like something had caught his eye.

Morty had sighed in relief, hoping that this was whatever Rick was looking for. He didn’t even understand why he had to come, Rick hadn’t even spoken to him during their trek. Nudging Rick aside so he could look, Morty was surprised to see a cabin sitting innocently amongst the trees. It looked a bit out of place, just a little too inviting as a safe haven in the scary wilderness.

Of course Rick wanted to check it out.

He had ranted about abandoned houses and finding valuables and finders keepers as they pushed open the door, both stepping into the inviting main room. It looked orderly and far too neat for an abandoned cabin, which was all the observations Morty was able to make before the door crashed shut behind them.

Hence, the situation he found himself in now.

Rick didn’t seem all too bothered by the sudden change of pace, shrugging and saying something about the wind as he walked further into the cabin, pushing open the only other door and stepping inside the room. When Morty didn’t immediately hear anything that sounded bad, he turned his attention back to the door. He wanted to try and open it, but was afraid of discovering an answer he wouldn’t like.

Swallowing his nerves, he stepped up to the heavy wood, wrapping a tentative hand around the handle. When he wasn’t immediately shocked or bitten he tried to turn the handle, only to find, as he had feared, it wouldn’t budge. He tried just pulling the door open and earned a sore butt for his efforts when his hand slipped off and he went failing backwards, of course just as Rick returned from the other room.

A little desperate now that he knew they were truly locked in, Morty turned to Rick, the other’s snickering at his tumble rolling easily off his back after years of building up a resistance.

“Rick. you -- can’t you do something?” He asked, gesturing to the locked door as if it wasn’t clear. He was already starting to feel a little claustrophobic, too many similar situations that ended badly rushing to mind.

“Nah, we’re screwed.” Rick replied, easygoing as he dug for his flask. Finding it, he took a long swig, sinking down to sprawl across the small couch that furnished the sparse room. He was gratified by the expression Morty shot back, a mixture of incredulity and irritation.

“Wait, you have -- you have a portal gun!” Morty suddenly remembered, getting to his feet and dusting off his clothes before pacing across the room and grabbing at Rick’s coat, searching.

Rick rolled his eyes as he batted Morty’s hands away. “Oh yeah, thanks -- thank you, never would’ve thought -- would’ve come up with that one.” Rick said sarcastically, drawing his portal gun from inside of his lab coat. He shot it at the floor under Morty’s feet just to see the kid flinch, but just as he expected, all it did was make a terrible snap and pop. “There’s probably a -- a portal shield or something set up around this -- this building. If we could get outside, the portal gun would work, no problem, but -- but in here? Nada.”

“Well then how about --” Morty started, brow furrowing as he thought hard, “can’t you like, shoot the lock or -- or something?”

That startled a genuine laugh out of Rick. “Do I -- do I look like fucking James Bond to you? That -- that shit only works in the movies, kiddo.” He said, shaking his head at the stupidity of youth.

Morty huffed, annoyed that Rick wasn’t even pretending to try and figure out a solution, yet still had the audacity to make fun of his suggestions.

“Well then -- then what do we do?” Morty asked, starting to feel a little desperate again. Rick always had some weird solution or gadget to get them out of just about anything, but then again, they apparently hadn’t come here expecting to run into a locking cabin, and maybe Rick was traveling light or something since it was supposed to be a quick in and out.

Rick sighed dramatically, pushing himself up from the couch and pocketing his flask once again. He went to the door and tried the handle, finding it just as locked as Morty had. He glanced around the main room again, taking in the same empty, uninterrupted walls and few furniture items scattered around. He once again opened the door to the other room, finding the same blank walls in what must be a bedroom, and nothing useful in the small, utilitarian attached bathroom. Coming back out to the main room, he shrugged. “Yup, looks like we’re stuck for -- stuck in her for now.”

That wasn’t what Morty wanted to hear, clutching at his own arms in an anxious self-hug. The feeling of claustrophobia was coming back, and even though he knew that they were honestly probably safer in here than they had been out in the woods, something about being stuck made Morty feel like a desperate caged animal. He felt a deep need to try the door again, but resisted the urge by digging his nails deeper into his arms, trying to take a slow deep breath.

“Listen -- listen, Morty, it’s nearly night time on Earth, so why don’t you -- why don’t we go take a nap and -- and deal with this once we have a clearer mind or -- or something.” Rick suggested, politely ignoring Morty’s distress so Rick wouldn’t have to deal with it. Rick was already walking back towards the other doorway, not waiting to see if Morty planned to follow. If Morty wanted to stand there and stare at blank walls and stew in his emotional bullshit, that was his prerogative, but Rick was going to sit on a comfortable looking bed. Rick could think just as well sitting down.

Kicking off his shoes as soon as he was through the doorway and shrugging off his lab coat haphazardly, Rick sat down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard and kicking his legs out in front of him comfortably.

He only had to wait a few minutes before Morty was peering hesitantly through the doorway, surveying the room for himself before stepping in. Morty toed his shoes off and placed them by the door far more neatly than Rick had his own, casting a judgmental look at the lab coat crumpled on the floor as he stepped over it to get to the bed.

Jumping onto the bed, he looked towards Rick, who seemed to mostly be ignoring him, and then towards the pillows, which looked inviting and soft. Now that he thought about it, the bed was also weirdly comfortable. It was just the right mix of soft and firm, and it made him want to lay down and curl up. Not seeing any reason not to give in to the urge, that’s exactly what Morty did, tugging the blankets back and plonking his head down on one of the pillows, which were just as soft as they looked. With the perfect weight and warmth of the blanket against his back, it was only a few moments before Morty was out like a light.

Rick stared softly at Morty, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. It wasn’t often he saw Morty like this, so soft and unguarded, anxiety slipping from his shoulders and fading into gentle relaxation. He took a deep drink from his flask as he tore his eyes away, looking towards the blank walls. Now wasn’t the time to be getting emotional, he had more important things to be focusing on.

\---

Morty woke up from his nap groggy, rubbing his eyes with loose fists, reluctantly blinking the sleep out of his blurry eyes. Stretching, he yawned but slowly sat up. The more he woke up, though, the more he remembered the situation they were in, and dread settled back over his shoulders to replace the blanket he had let fall. He turned towards Rick, who seemingly hadn’t moved from the position he had been in when Morty had fallen asleep, but before he could ask anything, Rick cut him off.

“You -- you’re nooot goona like this, MOorty, but I’ve got some -- some bad news for you.” Rick said evenly, looking straight ahead as he said, “The door -- this door’s locked too now.”

“Wha-what, Rick, how -- how could it be locked? You -- weren’t you watching the whole time? How could it just--” Morty protested, breathing getting shallow, now fully awake and anxious again. The claustrophobia from before multiplied tenfold, now that they were stuck in an even smaller space. Rather than improving, the situation was devolving, and he felt like he couldn’t catch a full breath.

He was brought back to reality by a hard shake, Rick’s fingers digging into his shoulders. He snapped his head up to stare at Rick, panic draining as he focused on him instead of the walls that felt like they were a bit too close.

“Chill the fuck out, Morty.” Rick huffed, letting his hands drop now that it seemed he had Morty’s attention. “I think I figured out what this -- what’s up with this while you were getting your -- your beauty sleep.” He paused, eyes drifting off to the side as he tried to find the best way to word his theory. “It’s -- well, you’re not gonna like this, but I’ve been in these -- these types of situations before and this looks a lot like -- like an Drazorcoid trap. Weird -- weird little species that doesn’t have much luck reproducing the way -- the way every other species in the universe seems to manage so they --”

“Can you -- please get to the point, Rick.” Morty interrupted, not at all liking the direction this was going.

As much as he steeled himself, though, it didn’t make it any easier when Rick rolled his eyes and said, “If we -- if we don’t, don’t, fuck, this place is rigged to -- to kill us.”

Morty kind of expected Rick to say something along those lines, but that didn’t mean he liked it. The fact that there was apparently a death threat hanging over their heads didn’t help him feel any calmer. He had so many questions, starting with exactly how long they had before their demise, but before he could start to ask, Rick bulldozed over him once again.

“N-now, I’m not any more a fan of this than -- than you are, Morty, I’m not some dirty grandson fucker or anything, but the way I see it, this is hardly -- hardly the worst thing we’ve ever been through on an adventure, yeah? This -- this really isn’t so bad, you know, comparatively.”

“Ooh, I don’t know about this, R-Rick.” Morty said quietly, fingers twisting into the blankets piled by his knees, carefully avoiding Rick’s heavy stare.

“Look at me, Morty.” Rick ordered, not continuing until Morty managed to drag his eyes up to meet Rick’s. “Do you want to die? B-because that’s your other choice.”

“I-I don’t want to die, Rick, but I don’t -- I don’t --” Morty replied, voice shaking as he tried and failed to grapple with the vast implications of the situation. He felt the burn of tears in the back of his throat, snapping his mouth shut in a desperate attempt to swallow them down. He was tired, scared, and trapped in a situation that didn’t seem to have any good options. He swiped at the first tear to slide down his cheek with a misplaced anger, but the floodgates were open now and he couldn’t stop the steady drip of tears.

Rick’s expression flipped like a switch, harsh and matter-of-fact to coddling in a second.

“Come here, baby.” He said, sweet as spun sugar, pulling Morty over with gentle hands before he could even consider moving on his own. “Shh, shh, it won’t be -- won’t be that bad, sweetheart, it’s ok, you’re ok, grandpa’s here.”

Morty sniffed pathetically, pressing up against Rick where the other had drawn him in. He didn’t exactly want to be so close, not knowing what Rick had just told him about their situation, but at the same time, he was hardwired to seek Rick for reassurance when things went sideways. Rick may act aloof, but he was the only one who truly noticed and tried to help, in his own standoffish way, when Morty felt like he was falling apart at the seams. It was far too easy to ignore that his savior was the cause of most of his traumas.

Rick let him sniffle, and stall, and contemplate the great injustices of the universe, for only a few short minutes before he was nudging Morty back from where his face had fallen to rest against Rick’s shoulder, encouraging him to look up once again.

“Ok, Morty, that’s enough -- enough of that. Listen, here’s what we’re gonna do.” Rick started, easygoing confidence making Morty feel like even more of a mess as he pawed at his wet cheeks.

“Well just start nice and easy, just a little -- a little kiss--” Rick’s arms tightened reflexively when Morty flinched back at the word, keeping him pinned in place. “Shh, calm down crybaby, just a kiss, that’s noth -- that’s practically nothing.” Rick said, as Morty started his steady drip-drip-drip of tears again. “I’m going to kiss you, baby, and it’ll be nice and easy, nothing to be afraid of.” Rick repeated, holding Morty close until he started to calm down from the pure exhaustion of crying.

“Do -- do we have to, Rick?” Morty pleaded, one last ditch attempt for any other solution.

“Yeah, Morty, unless you want to die, we do.” Rick said firmly, looking Morty straight in the eye. Morty met the unflinching stare, and realized his fate was sealed. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Rick took action for the both of them, raising a hand to cup Morty’s jaw, fingers slipping naturally to rest behind Morty’s ear and draw their faces together.

Morty squeezes his eyes tightly shut, and just like that, they were kissing.

Morty flinched at the first brush of lip against lip, but Rick had been prepared for that, moving easily with him and not letting Morty break away. At first it was really just mouth against mouth, just as Rick had promised, letting Morty get used to it all. But it wasn’t long before he was looking for more, pressing his tongue forward to slip neatly between Morty’s lips, licking into his mouth.

Morty screwed his eyes up at the strange feeling of a second tongue in his mouth. It was a wet, slimy feeling he wasn’t entirely sure he liked. More importantly, he was starting to run out of air as his mouth was otherwise occupied. Morty tugged his head back, and Rick finally let him go, but only by an inch. Morty drew in a deep breath, eyes peeking open. He was surprised by the closeness of Rick’s face to his, and the intensity of his eyes when viewed from so close.

Before Morty could panic, Rick was drawing him back in. He went easier this time, complacent with shock and overrun with a bombardment of strange emotions he didn’t have the capacity to process. It was easier to just go along with Rick’s thoughtful guidance, and figure out the rest later, Morty decided absently.

Eventually, Morty grew tired of sitting back and letting his mouth be used. He wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about where his evening had ended up, and the last thing he wanted to do was encourage Rick, but maybe he could use the opportunity to like, practice kissing or something. Mostly, though, he just felt kind of gross letting Rick lick into his mouth. Everyone always talked about how great kissing was, so this couldn’t be all there was to it.

Tentative at first, Morty pressed his tongue forward, finally engaging with Rick. The sensation was strange and even wetter than before, but the task of focusing on coordinating his mouth and his breathing was enough to keep him from ruminating on the grittier details of the situation. The way Rick’s breath caught and his hand tightened just a bit where it was still guiding Morty’s head wasn’t so bad either, Morty decided, as he blushed with bashful pride.

After a few minutes more of Morty’s inexperienced participation, Rick pulled back, shooting him a wicked grin. Morty automatically returned a shy smile of his own, awkwardly wiping away the spit that wet his chin.

“See -- see, baby? That wasn’t -- wasn’t so bad now, was it.” Rick said, pleased.

Morty just averted his eyes, unsure of what to say now that there was space between them once again. He didn’t think he hated it, which felt kind of wrong, but he didn’t have the time to dissect his hangups with incest right then. But he also didn’t want to agree and say it wasn’t so bad, unsure of what Rick might think of him if he admitted that he didn’t mind as much as he thought he should.

“Don’t overthink it.” Rick scolded, pulling Morty out of his spiraling thoughts and back up against Rick’s chest. Morty went along limply, just happy to have a distraction once more. Rick took the opportunity to let his hand wander lower, purposely brushing against sensitive skin and making Morty jump.

“That tickles!” Morty tittered, shivering at the exploratory fingers. Rick smirked, pressing his fingers down with a more intentional purpose. Morty’s giggle turned to a cut-off whimper, biting back the sound as if he was afraid of what it might mean.

It was too late, though. Rick had already heard, and more importantly, seen the effect his touches were having.

“I told you I would make you feel good, baby.” Rick boasted, as his hand dipped into Morty’s jeans to tease the elastic band of his boxers.

Morty stiffened at the invasion, muscles tensing under Rick’s suddenly far-too-personal touch.

“Just relaaax, baby, let me help you feel good.” Rick said, holding Morty tight enough that he couldn’t even try to squirm as his fingers slipped farther to press lightly against Morty’s half-hard dick.

Morty whimpered, body tensing more as his breath started to shallow again. Things were quickly far too real, and he wasn’t ready, he wasn’t ready-

He was yanked away from his panic when Rick once again pressed his mouth to Morty’s, forcing him to focus on his lips instead of the hand in his pants. Rick kept his hand still as he slowly captured Morty’s focus in the slow slide of mouth against mouth, something he was at least a little more familiar with. Morty started to sloppily return the kiss, overwhelmed but trying to focus on any distraction he could get.

As Morty got more caught up in the kiss, Rick used the opportunity to slowly move his hand. With the first twitch of his fingers, Morty tried to rear back and squirm away, but Rick followed his motions easily, refusing to let Morty escape.

Eventually, Morty had no choice but to give in, sinking slowly back into the kiss as he sagged against Rick. Rick took this as his que to continue, teasing with the slightest press of his fingers or twitch of his hand.

Morty jerked towards the suddenly pleasant touch on instinct, twitching back again in embarrassment once he realized what his body was doing. Rick broke their messy kiss to scoff playfully at Morty’s bashfulness, and watched with sharp eyes as Morty’s own gaze drifted between their bodies. There wasn’t much to see, not with both of them pretty much fully clothed, but it seemed like just the visual of Rick’s hand down Morty’s pants was enough to make Morty turn even pinker, gasping out a cute little “oh”.

“Yeah you -- you like what you see, baby?” RIck teased, finally moving his hand properly up and dragging it slowly back down. Morty jerked again at the sensation, mouth falling open even as he tried to hold in his moan.

“It’s ok to -- to let it out, baby, it’s -- it’s ok to feel good, Morty.” Rick encouraged, speeding up his strokes as much as the restrictive denim allowed. Morty felt his inhibitions fading as he started to want more of the good feeling, the touch of someone else’s hand so much different from his own. His bleary eyes was transfixed on the space between them, hesitantly rocking into the feeling.

Rick allowed him to indulge until Morty’s cheeks were flushed red and his little noises couldn’t be held back. Then, just as Morty seemed about to truly lose his composure, Rick withdrew his hand far more nonchalantly than he felt, and with it the friction Morty had been so desperately craving.

“H-hey!” Morty protested, lips forming a cute pout as his brow furrowed.

“What baby, got a -- a problem? I thought you weren’t so -- so sure about all this.” Rick teased, eating up the embarrassed flush that smeared down Morty’s neck.

“I -- I -- I’m, I mean, I’m not --” Morty floundered. As he searched for his words, he absentmindedly moved one hand between them to replace Rick’s, only able to roll his hips into his own hand once before Rick was snatching it away.

“Nah-ah-ah, Morty, not so fucking fast.” Rick snapped, pulling Morty’s hand by the wrist far away from where Morty wanted it.

Morty stared back at him with great offense. Rick couldn’t hold back his snort, but it was hard to take Morty seriously when it looked like he had just swallowed a lemon. This only seemed to make Morty’s face Morty sour, so Rick tried to contain himself, not wanting to make Morty grumpy when he was finally starting to get with the program.

“Relax, sweetheart, plenty of time for -- for that later, but don’t forget the whole point of -- of this.” RIck said, grabbing Morty by the hips and pulling him up to sit higher on Rick’s thighs. Once he had Morty where he wanted him, he shifted his hand back down, this time to the button on Morty’s jeans.

Morty followed Rick’s hand with his eyes, and figured out his intentions quickly, starting to squirm. “Oh jeeze, I -- I don’t know if I’m ready for--” Morty protested, but his concerns fell on deaf ears.

“You are.” Rick said, confident enough to have Morty almost doubting his own worries. Rick shifted while Morty was still confused, pressing Morty’s shoulder to dump him back flat onto the bed, thighs splayed out on top of and to either side of Rick’s.

Morty ‘oomph’ed when his back hit the soft bed, eyes widening as he took in the new position. He tried to pull his legs towards his chest, or just move someway to prevent his thighs from being spread so suggestively, but Rick smoothly caught his ankle before he could do anything and held him in place.

Morty tried to tug his leg back, but Rick’s grip tightened: a warning.

Satisfied that Morty would stay put, at least for the moment, Rick let go, reaching forward once again for Morty’s jeans. Morty obediently didn’t protest or try to pull away, but his hands flew to cover his face in embarrassment. Rick undid the button and pulled the zipper down easily, tugging at the waistband until Morty got the hint and lifted his hips. Morty was still determined to hide behind his hands even as Rick maneuvered him to pull his jeans the rest of the way off, as if not looking would mean that this wasn’t actually happening.

Morty flinched when Rick’s long fingers curled under the last elastic and fabric maintaining his modesty, but once again he didn’t protest. Rick just shushed him and stroked his thigh as he smoothly tugged down the last layer of fabric and threw it off to the side.

Rick had to pause to admire the view.

Morty’s thighs were still thrown over Rick’s own, Morty’s back flat against the sheets. His small hands were desperately covering his red face, and his tiny cock lay against his stomach, just barely brushing the fabric of his t-shirt. Seeing Morty half dressed was almost more erotic than seeing him naked, the debatury of the situation making Rick hungry for more. Rick bit back a groan as he pet a hand down Morty’s now fully naked thigh, unable to help himself.

Morty whimpered in return, hands digging harder into his face as he tried to curl in on himself in mortification, only to be stopped once again by Rick’s quick hands.

“Let me -- let me see that pretty face, baby.” Rick said roughly, consumed by Morty’s desperate embarrassment and deciding he had been lenient enough with his need for modesty.

Morty miserably tossed his head against the sheets, a clear protest, but RIck was having none of it.

“You have five seconds to move your hands before I -- I move them for you.” He warned, waiting only a second before patronizingly starting to count down out loud.

Morty caved at three, dragging his hands down like it physically pained him.

Rick dug his hands into Morty’s thighs a little too rough at the ruined expression that was finally exposed to him, all red cheeks and teary eyes, Morty’s bottom lip wobbling as he tried and failed to meet Rick’s eyes.

“There you are.” Rick nearly growled, using his grip on Morty’s thighs to hike him back up until Morty’s pelvis was pressed against Rick’s, rough trousers meeting soft skin. Morty couldn’t swallow his whimper at the friction of their contact, and Rick didn’t try to contain his wolfish grin in response.

“I told you you’d -- you’d like it.” Rick said, bending forward and folding Morty with him until they could meet in a kiss. Just as Morty started to remember how to reciprocate properly, Rick was pulling away, but not by much. A sweet kiss on Morty’s cheek leads to a trail of dirty kisses down Morty’s neck, Rick unable to hold back with such a pretty sight in front of him. He wanted the world to know that Morty was his, and he had no shame in showing it through bite marks and bruises.

Morty sighed and whined his pleasure as Rick sucked dark marks on to his neck, the feeling almost a tickle at first, but fading into an aching kind of buzz in his stomach.

All too soon for either of them, Rick pulled away with one last biting kiss against Morty’s collarbone. He took a moment to admire the mottled patchwork of Morty’s skin, marred and ruined by his teeth and tongue.

Morty felt flayed open and vulnerable under the penetrating gaze Rick was once again leveling him with, his hands fluttering by his sides. He desperately wanted to cover his face again, hide behind his hands and break away from the intensity of the moment, but he knew he would be stopped.

Rick finally decided he had enough of making Morty squirm, breaking the silence.

“Ready for -- for the next step, sweetie?” Rick asked, smile a little too sharp as he dug his nails into Morty’s soft thighs, intentional this time.

Morty tried to nod, knowing he didn’t really have any other choice, but halfway through it turned into a miserable head shake, tears shining unshed in his eyes. The reality of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks, leaving him breathless and shaking as the trapped-animal fear surged inside of him.

“Shh, shh, you’re ok baby, it’s all gonna be -- you’re ok.” Rick soothed, grip easing as he turned claws into tender touches. He didn’t seem surprised by the emotional surge, letting Morty come to terms with the situation at his own speed. Morty slowly started to take more even, if still shaky, breaths, forcing himself to calm down, a skill honed from many adventures gone wrong.

“Saying it a-again and a-again doesn’t make--make it t-t-true, Rick.” Morty stuttered, rubbing at his eyes hard to try and scrub away the tears still hiding just behind his lids. Rick simply acknowledged him with a hum, continuing to pet Morty’s thigh with one hand as his other reached off to the side. “What are you -- what is that?” Morty asked, moving his fists to look when he felt Rick’s body shift with movement.

Rick dangled the bottle in front of Morty’s face. Morty’s breath hitched when he saw the label, lubricant in big black letters. Before he could break down again, though, RIck was shushing him, leaning forward to pepper chaste kisses on his face and lips to distract him.

Leaning back, Rick said, “Easy as pie, sweetie, just -- just take a deep breath and -- and relax, ok?”

Without waiting for a reply, Rick deftly uncapped the bottle, pouring an ample amount of lube onto his fingers before pressing up against Morty’s entrance.He didn’t push forward right away, circling and teasing the sensitive skin until Morty let some of the tension seep out of his muscles.

As soon as Rick pressed one finger forward, only as deep as the second knuckle, Morty tensed again, face screwing up and fingers digging into the sheets once more. Rick just patiently paused, fully prepared to wait out the ebbs and flows of Morty’s anxiety.

When Morty slowly relaxed again, more out of an inability to stay tense for so long than any sense of relaxation, Rick continued, working his finger in and out until Morty started to get used to the feeling. It wasn’t entirely pleasant, but Morty felt like he was at least acclimating to the weird feeling of something inside him.

Of course, Rick took that momentary pseudo-comfort and exploited it instantly, far less courteous as he pressed in a second finger besides the first.

Morty flinched and clenched up hard at the invasion, but Rick was expecting that, keeping his hand still and resting his unoccupied hand on Morty’s hip, squeezing him reassuringly. Morty whimpered, unable to find the words to explain the tsunami of emotions he was feeling. Rick seemed to understand anyway, falling back into his soothing prattle.

“Shh, you’re ok baby, doing so well for me sweetheart, there you go-”

Morty would never admit how much the sound of his grandpa’s voice made the tension seep from his muscles, the rhythm and flow of his words washing over Morty like a comforting wave he had no choice but to drown in.

“That’s my brave boy, so -- so good for me, Morty.” Rick praised when Morty finally started to relax again, gently and slowly starting to move his fingers. Morty, to his credit, didn’t tense as badly again, even if he did flinch and squirm at the strange feelings.

Rick worked him open with two fingers until Morty was sloppy and dripping with lube. Morty was pink and sweaty, eyes glazed and little noises falling steadily from his mouth as the weird feelings started to fade into pleasant ones. The fingers inside him had felt strange at first, but once Rick had gotten a rhythm going, rocking them in and out and moving in just the right ways, Morty was lost to the feeling. Instead of squirming away, he was squirming down for more.

“So -- such a needy thing, aren’t you.” Rick teased, pressing his fingers against Morty’s prostate until he whined, wiggling with overstimulation.

Rick relented, easing his fingers out and allowing Morty a moment of reprieve before he was sliding them in again, this time with a third. Morty took the addition complacently, eyes blurry and glazed as they looked towards Rick for reassurance.

“Told you baby, it’s noth -- it’s easy.” Rick said, pressing his fingers in a little deeper.

Morty whimpered, legs twitching a little wider apart, and Rick’s smirk turned wolfish once again. He pressed his fingers into the last knuckle, before stretching all three digits wide, feeling the easy give of Morty’s tired muscles.

Finally turning some attention towards his own ignored arousal, Rick withdrew his fingers slowly, letting them drag teasingly against Morty’s inner walls. Rick undid his belt as quickly as he could with lube-slicked fingers, pulling at the button on his slacks with no more finess. Morty’s head twitched up from where it was laying against the bed at the sounds. Catching sight of Rick’s mostly undone pants, he paled, realizing that once again, things were progressing faster than he was probably ready for. Morty watched with trepidation as Rick tugged down his zipper, the clink of each prong echoing loudly in his ears.

When Rick carelessly tugged his cock out of the fabric confines, not even bothering to pull down his trousers, it was suddenly all too much.

Morty’s head thumped back against the bed, hands fluttering to nervously cover his face as he pleaded, “R-Rick, do, do we really -- I mean, this is all a little --”.

“Relax, dipshit.” Rick said fondly, “You just -- you just had my fingers up your ass and I -- I sure didn’t hear any complaints about that.”

Taking pity on the shaking boy against his thighs, Rick tugged Morty’s ankle until he bent his knees enough to allow Rick to move. Rick swung his own legs over the side of the bed as he dropped Morty’s, tugging off his socks and slacks and leaving them messily on the floor. He tugged his sweater over his head with the same fluid ease as he moved back towards Morty, tossing it somewhere above the boy’s head on the bed. Now naked, he manhandled Morty again, prodding until Morty uncovered his eyes enough to follow Rick’s direction.

Morty did his best to keep his eyes planted firmly on the sheets or the wall, not quite ready to deal with the visual of his grandpa naked in front of him. Sure, it was technically nothing he hadn’t seen before, but the context of the situation combined with Rick naked was more than he could really process at the moment. He made sure to look firmly over Rick’s shoulder as the elder pulled him to sit, passively letting Rick do as he wished so he could mentally try and stay distant.

When looking at the wall became a little too close to looking at Rick’s face, Morty tried to look towards the bedsheets once more, only to startle himself when he saw their new position. Any attempts of mental distance were lost to the sudden reality of their physical distance, or lack thereof. At least when he was laying on his back he had some small sense of separation, but now he found himself sitting back on his heels, knocking knees with Rick. Rick’s longer legs forced his thighs to spread wide, putting a strain on Morty’s knees, but if he tried to relieve the pressure, that would put him nearly against Rick’s chest, so he tried to bear it.

Rick, as usual, took away any hope of things going the way Morty planned. He pulled Morty closer until they were just a hair apart, chests almost touching, limited only by the awkward arrangement of their legs.

Morty tried to look back up to argue, or plead, but Rick kept his head down with unnegotiable pressure.

“See -- look, baby, nothing to -- to be scared of.” Rick said, and when Morty tensed in his arms, he just laughed. He grabbed Morty’s wrist in hand, the movement smooth with practice, but instead of using his iron hold to drag Morty around, Rick instead used it as a gentle guidance. He dragged Morty’s hand down until Morty’s fingertips brushed against the tip of Rick’s cock.

Morty stiffened more, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his head against Rick’s shoulder because it was better than looking between their bodies to put an image to the feeling ghosting across the pads of his fingers. Morty felt timid and embarrassed with inexperienced, a shy virgin faced with a partner whose experience and skill bordered on legendary.

Despite himself, he didn’t try to pull away when Rick guided his hand to make firmer contact.

Morty flinched at the answering groan, not expecting the deep noise so close to his ear, but he couldn’t deny that he also felt a little...empowered? Rick would be the first to brag that he fucked his way across the galaxy, but here he was, sighing his pleasure while Morty did nothing more but timidly brush his small fingers over his cockhead.

Emboldened, if only slightly, Morty decided to take a small peek, glancing between their bodies. He quickly jerked back, embarrassed and flustered. Taking a deep breath, he tried again, drawing his face away from Rick’s shoulder and glancing between them once more.

Rick’s large hand wrapped fully around Morty’s wrist, fingers overlapping where they met. Morty’s own tiny fingers looked even smaller brushing up against a cock so much larger than his own. He suddenly felt shy about his own size in more ways than one. Rick must have taken the flush rising to his cheeks as something else, or else he was just tired of letting Morty play coy, tugging Morty’s wrist and encouraging him to more fully wrap his fingers around Rick’s twitching cock.

Morty obediently explored a little more boldly, trying to circle his hand around the girth just like Rick circled his own fingers around Morty’s wrist. His eyes widened in disbelief when his fingers were unable to form a closed circle, bringing his other hand down from where it had been clutching at Rick’s shoulder, to confirm his suspicions. Both his hands stacked couldn’t cover the full length of Rick’s cock, and neither could fully circle it. Morty knew he had smaller hands, but even with that taken into consideration-- “Is this -- I mean, can this really -- uhm will it, uh, fit?” Morty asked, voice rising in pitch as he started to really consider the logistics.

Rick looked at him like he thought the question was cute. “What you -- you don’t trust your ol’ grandpa, Morty?”

Morty bit his tongue against the sharp reply that threatened to slip out. He didn’t really want to poke at Rick’s fragile ego when they were about to -- y’know.

“Uh, I -- I guess I do.” Morty settled on saying, knowing it was probably what Rick wanted to hear.

“That’s goo --great, great, sweetie, keep it up.” Rick encouraged with a smile that could mean nothing good. He shoved Morty back without warning, sending him flailing backwards. Morty yelped, hands flying to catch himself as his thighs burnt from the sudden stretch. He scrambled to get his calves out from under him, trying to unfold his legs and stop sitting on his feet. He managed to get his legs kicked out flat to either side of Rick’s, but realized far too late the position that left him in.

Morty was stuck in a worse version of how he was laying earlier, thighs spread wide on either side of Rick’s knees and hand’s occupied with holding his weight so he wouldn’t overstretch his adductor muscles. In short, he was completely exposed, and left with no real way to change that without a lot of flexibility he certainly didn’t have.

Rick reached for the little bottle of lube again and Morty stared at him bug-eyed, protests dying on his tongue as he struggled to find the words. Rick payed him no mind, sloppily pouring some lube onto his cock, allowing himself a few rough strokes before pressing his newly coated fingers once again to Morty’s entrance. Morty twitched, not expecting fingers, disoriented by the unexpected choice.

Rick pressed two fingers in, fast and deep, not bothering to beat around the bush since Morty was already mostly stretched. The sudden feeling startled a moan out of Morty, which Rick was quick to meet with a satisfied noise of his own at getting a reaction.

Deeming Morty still stretched and wet enough, Rick didn’t waste time pulling his fingers back, replacing their presence at Morty’s entrance with the blunt pressure of his cockhead.

Morty squirmed, trying to wiggle back, panicked at the strange feeling that was so different from Rick’s thin fingers, scared little whimpers escaping mindlessly from his throat. Rick just shushed him sweetly and yanked him back down, leaving him nowhere to go as he breached Morty’s entrance in one smooth motion. Rick managed to gather the self control to stop a little less than a third of the way down, tossing his head back with an animalistic noise at the tight, smooth heat wrapped around his cock.

Morty felt like the air was knocked out of his lungs as Rick ruthlessly made room for himself deep in Morty’s insides. He tensed instinctively at the intrusion, mouth falling open in a breathless gasp as his fingers dug like claws into the sheets. His already wobbly arms gave up completely, sending him crashing back against the sheets. He took a gulping breath, and then another, eyes blown wide and every muscle tense, before he promptly burst into tears.

Rick looked surprised for a brief second, before it morphed quickly into amusement.

“Shh, you’re ok Morty, it’s ok baby, it -- it doesn’t hurt, it’s just new, yeah? Just feels different, you’ll -- you’ll get used to it, shhh, you’re ok baby -- my little crybaby, just take a deeep breath.” Rick soothed, voice once again working it’s magic as Morty took a big, shuttery breath at his command, even as fat tears continued to slide down his cheeks. “Jeeze, baby, you gotta stop crying at -- at every little thing.” Rick teased, good natured and content to watch Morty shatter and rebuild beneath him. He couldn’t resist moving just a little, rocking his hips forward enough to spear Morty another inch.

“It’s -- oh! -- if you didn’t -- it’s all yuh-your fault!” Morty protested, sucking in a breath as Rick nudged forward.

“You just -- you gotta relaax, Morty, just -- just chill out.” Rick responded, petting his flank like he was a spooked colt. “It’ll feel so much better if you -- if you relax and just let me -- just let me work my magic.” Rick added, wiggling his fingers like he was casting a spell.

Morty snorted, though it came out as more of a sniffle. “Easy -- easy f-for you to say.” He grumbled, but he made an honest effort to relax. It was oddly reasuring to see that dispite everything else that was happening, this was still his same grandpa who made lame jokes and had that stupid self-confident smirk when he thought he was being clever.

Rick smiled as the vice around his cock lessened enough for him to press forward the rest of the way, foraging ahead until his pubic bone sat flush to Morty’s thighs.

Morty gasped, picking up his head to look between his legs like he couldn’t believe there had been more. Stray tears slipped unnoticed down his cheeks as he tried to adjust to the strange feeling. It felt weirdly different from the times he had to play Rick’s prison wallet. Rick’s cock twitched against his insides every time he tensed around it.

“That feels -- it’s so -- so deep.” Morty whimpered, pawing at his eyes with the hand that wasn’t supporting his weight. That hand made its way to press against his lower stomach, almost certain he would be able to feel Rick inside him. Morty was frankly surprised when he felt nothing but his own taunt stomach.

“Yeah, baby?” Rick chuckled, self stratified and buried in his own pleasure. He shallowly rocked his hips back before sliding forward again, the slow drag making Morty shift, uncertain and shy all over again.

Rick seemed to sense his hesitation, face turning devious as he grabbed Morty’s wrist once more. He dragged Morty’s hand down to where their bodies met, refusing to let him tug away.

“Feel that, sweetie?” He asked, watching Morty’s face spin through confusion straight to embarrassed when he realized what Rick was doing. Morty’s fingers tentatively felt where Rick was buried deep inside him, face flushing darker as he imagined how it must look from Rick’s angle. “Now just -- just focus on how this feels.” Rick instructed, cool and collected as he dragged his cock out nice and slow, until only the head was still inside.

Morty whined, fingertips brushing the length of Rick’s cock as he pulled back, while at the same time, feeling the slow drag from the inside. The dual sensation added a new level of reality, and Morty found himself suddenly focusing on the feelings a lot more than he had been moments before. He shivered, and Rick smirked, pleased.

Satisfied that Morty was finally getting on his page, Rick decided he was done playing around. Thrusting forward, sudden and sharp, he set a hard pace, fingers digging into Morty’s thighs and smearing the pale skin with dark bruises. He couldn’t help the groan that fell from his lips as he finally got to really experience the tight heat he had been teasing himself with for far too long.

Morty shocked himself with the moan that tore up his throat as Rick started to fuck him properly. With one hand still shoved between his legs, the other was left to grasp at anything he could reach to keep him grounded as the fullness of Rick pounding deep inside threatens to overwhelm him.

He settled for grabbing at Rick’s shoulder with his free hand, nails digging like little claws as he eyes rolled back. With every thrust, he felt a little more breathless, like Rick was carving him open and shoving aside his lungs to make room for himself. Morty rocked his hips down as best he could with the little leverage he had, digging his nails in harder as he tried not to get lost in the sensations suffocating him.

When Rick quickened his pace even more, Morty whined high-pitched and loud, feeling like his body was going to slip apart under the intensity of the movements. The bed was shaking under them, and Morty clenched his thighs around Rick’s as best he could given his position.

It was a lot, the things he was feeling escaping words and hitting his brain in overwhelming bursts of feeling. Rick was all around him, inside him, above him, and Morty let himself get lost in that. The one constant in his life was trusting Rick when things felt like too much, so he escaped into that now, moaning at the punishing slam of their bodies meeting, the stuffed feeling inside his stomach, the slide of Rick’s cock against his fingertips.

The pressure continued to build as Rick fucked him deep and fast, never giving Morty a second to catch his breath. Morty arched into the feeling, inadvertently grinding against his own wrist still stuck between their bodies.

“R-Rick!” Morty pleaded, not sure what he was asking for but desperate nonetheless.

“Fuck yeah, baby, there you go.” Rick cooed, drinking in the sight of Morty flushed and spread out below him, torn between grinding down into Rick’s thrusts and grinding up into his own arm. “I told -- told you you’d like it.”

Morty didn’t respond, too busy trying to jerk his hips just right to get the perfect mix of friction against his dick and fullness inside him. He thought he was familiar with what it felt like to approach an orgasm, but this was more intense than anything he had ever experienced before. The combination of Rick’s cock pressing deep inside him and the aching burn in his thighs from being pressed wide, along with the emotional ping-ponging he spent the last hours grappling with, left him breathless.

Rick felt Morty tensing around him, sliding out nice and slow in contrast to the harsh pace he had been chasing before, before slamming in deep and fast. It hit just the right spots to send Morty arching hard off the bed, digging his nails into Rick’s shoulder as he came hard.

Morty was convinced he had never cum so hard in his life, aftershocks still rippling through his body as he tried to come down from the aggressive high.

He nearly screamed when Rick started to fuck him again, nice and slow like he had done at the start. The overstimulation had Morty clenching down and trying to squirm away, blinking the blur from his eyes as he tried to give Rick his best glare.

“Shh, Morty, just a -- just a little more for me sweetie, almost there, almost done, ok?” Rick soothed, grabbing Morty’s hips to pull him back down and hold him there as he rocked into Morty’s fluttering insides. “Fuck, you feel so good baby, so -- so fucking tight after you just came.” He groaned, slamming his hips forward a little harder and ignoring the answering yelp.

Morty grabbed onto Rick with both hands, trying to ground himself as sharp sparks of pleasure-tinged pain shot up his spine. Rick just groaned at the bite of nails scrabbling against his sides as Morty squirmed.

Far too soon, the tight flutter around his cock and Morty’s desperate little wiggles became too much, and Rick shoved his cock in as deep as it could go one last time. He squeezed Morty’s thighs hard enough to make him whimper as he came hard, groan of pleasure sliding past lax lips as he threw his head back and let the feeling take him. RIck rode out every twitch of his cock with little aborted thrusts, filling Morty up until Rick was completely spent.

Morty peered desperately up at Rick as he reluctantly slid out, things starting to feel real and scary now that he wasn’t on a sexual high. He scrunched up his face at the wet feeling dripping against his thighs, looking down his nose and catching sight of his cum-stained shirt that had gotten rucked up around his armpits. For some reason, the sight of his own cum splattered across familiar yellow was almost too much for him, searing his eyes with the harsh truth of the fact that he had just had sex with his grandfather. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, taking a shaky breath.

“Oh, what -- what now, Morty.” Rick snapped, rolling his shoulders as he tried to stretch the exertion from his muscles. “You better not start -- start crying again, I swear to God.”

Morty kept his eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to cry either, not when he finally thought he had accepted the situation. “Muh-my, my shirt.” He managed, snapping his mouth shut before the lump in his throat could escape out his mouth.

Rick’s gaze became a little softer. “Aw, are you -- are you upset that you got your shirt dirty?” He asked, tone just a little patronizing.

Morty nodded, embarrassed to admit that something so stupid could make him so overwhelmed.

Rick didn’t mock him this time; instead, Morty felt large hands on his upper body, pushing and prodding until he squinted his eyes open and could follow Rick’s guidance. He let Rick pull him into a sitting position, struggling to move his aching, trembling legs to support his new center of gravity. WIth hands far gentler than Morty was used to, Rick encouraged him to lift his arms, pulling Morty’s shirt over his head for him and throwing it over the edge of the bed to get lost with the rest of the clothes on the floor.

Morty was oddly glad to be rid of the dirty tee, but he also felt strangely naked without it. It hadn’t been doing much for his modesty, but he still felt more exposed without it. Rick must have noticed his shiver, because before Morty could say anything, Rick was reaching around him to his own discarded sweater still abandoned at the top of the bed. He pulled it over Morty’s head and fondly ruffled his hair as Morty tried to get his arms through the sleeves, just grateful to have something to cover his body with.

Rick pulled him to lay down, and Morty followed complacent, letting Rick pull him close. The worn sweater wrapped around him didn’t do much to shield him from Rick’s radiating body heat, and Morty blushed, feeling somehow more intimate than he had when they were literally having sex. Morty started to drift, eyes feeling heavy under the comfortable heat pressing against him, surrounded completely by Rick’s scent and his wiry arms.

His eyes drooped closed, only to shoot open a moment later when Morty realized something very important they had almost forgotten. “Wait does -- did it work? DId the door unlock?” He asked a little too loudly, trying to jerk out of Rick’s grip to check for himself. Rick didn’t let him wiggle away, holding him almost too tight until he stopped trying to get away.

“Chill -- chillax, Morty, I’m sure it -- it worked, but what you need right now is -- is a nap.” Rick said flatly, pulling Morty back against his bare chest.

Morty wanted to protest, demand that they look right now this second, but he knew that tone in Rick’s voice. He wasn’t going to win that argument, not when Rick spoke with such certainty. Plus, now that he was laying down again, he really did feel tired again. His hips and legs were sore, and it felt kinda’ cozy to have Rick wrapped so tightly around him, like nothing could penetrate his protective shell.

A little nap couldn’t hurt, Morty thought, laughing to himself at the irony of that statement being the very one that got them locked in this room in the first place. But it wasn’t like things could get worse, and Rick was there to watch out for him. He could trust Rick to keep him safe, Morty thought, as he let his eyes drift closed.

Rick watched the boy in his arms drift off, wrapped in his sweater and dripping with his cum. He held Morty close for a moment longer, making sure he wouldn’t wake up suddenly, before he slipped out of the bed, making his way across the room. Rick eyed his slacks still crumpled on the floor, and after a moment of thought, pulled them back on, though he was too lazy to bother with the zipper or button.

Rick walked towards the door, glancing back at Morty, sound asleep on the bed. Sighing, he stepped up to the knob, silently pressing a key into the lock, the soft click of the tumblers moving the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.

Tucking the key back away, Rick returned to the bed far faster than he had left it, slipping back into place and pulling Morty close again. Morty shifted, but didn’t wake, exhausted from what Rick had put him through.

Rick spared a tiny moment to feel remorse, before tucking that useless emotion away as neatly as he had tucked away the key.

As he tried to burn the memories of what they had done into his mind, Rick started to ponder what else he could convince Morty to do. There was still one more locked door, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaand that's that! Thank you so much for reading :p. I would love to hear any thoughts, good, bad, or indifferent, so please feel free to leave a comment! 
> 
> Once again, thanks to @rickxoxomorty on twit for working with me during this event, it was a complete pleasure! Go check out their account for more amazing artwork!


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